Hyrule Warriors: Reprieves
by Oz37
Summary: This is a collection of vignettes visiting our warriors between battles, delving into their inner thoughts and preparations for continuing their conquests. Newest: Wizzro's third consecutive loss against the Hyruleans is not well received by the Dark Sorceress. Up Next: Ruto, Princess of the Zoras, is captured by a supposed friend.
1. Cia's Reflection

Cia sauntered leisurely through the abandoned halls of Hyrule Castle, which was deserted in the wake of the first of what would be many hard-fought battles. She pondered the skirmish as she stepped over scattered weaponry, occasionally running her hand across a smooth marble pillar in passing or kicking a discarded shield from her path. She was silently struggling with whether or not this battle should be considered a victory. The claiming of the castle would certainly suggest so, but Cia's true aims were much higher, much more intimate, and not yet fulfilled.

Instinctively, she climbed a tucked away staircase that ascended to a private tower at the castle's southeastern corner. Her troops had suffered significant casualties, but Stalchildren and Bokoblins were easy to conjure for one as gifted as she, and she also had a plan in motion that would more than triple her resources in due time. The slain King Dodongo was harder to replace, however. Despite her losses, Cia couldn't stop the smile that came to her lips remembering how deftly the Hero had dispatched her forces, with such bravery and cunning. Her smile dissipated as she reached the door of her destination.

Cia had imagined this moment hundreds of times across over a dozen different eras. Her fantasies usually involved blasting the door off its hinges and striding in with bravado to snuff out the rival of her affections. Instead, the large oak panel adorned with the royal crest creaked open slowly, and she almost shyly peeked into the chamber. It was empty, but a breeze travelling through the open window carried it's now missing inhabitant's scent to Cia. Sweet, pure, and stomach turning to the sorceress. She shouldered the door open enough for her to slip inside before closing herself within.

The room was comfortable and subtly feminine, bedecked in soft shades of white and pale rose. Well-read but well-cared for books could be found on all of the tabletop surfaces throughout the room. Cia went to the wardrobe and peered within, unsurprised to find tastefully chaste attire filling it. She wandered to the the neatly organized vanity and sat on the cushioned bench, but she averted her eyes from the mirror mounted there.

It had been some time since she had faced her reflection, not since her transformation from the Guardian of Time into the Dark Sorceress. Reluctantly, she reached up and pulled the pointed mask from her face and the cowl from her head, hesitating before finally facing her altered image. Her features were basically unchanged, but her previously porcelain skin now looked darkly tanned. She already knew this because of the rest of her body's new coloration, but it was more striking to see her face affected so. She leaned toward the mirror as her fingers pressed into her own cheek, and the cause of her complexion revealed itself, the dark energy under the surface subtly shifting and swirling. Her hand moved to her hair, still silky to the touch but shorter and now blanched white instead of the unique silver it once was. The final difference was her sweeping bangs, now nestling an angry crimson jewel that was more than mere decoration.

Cia was different now, though she was unsure if it would be called a metamorphosis or a deterioration. She could not stop herself from momentarily wishing that the light which was driven from her heart could come back, to restore her appearance if nothing else. Suddenly the image in the mirror changed, and she now faced her previous self, the light that had abandoned her. The light that took on its own form, what she considered was once THEIR united form. However, a moment's more consideration showed that this "Lana" was different from the original, too. She called herself the White Sorceress, had long blue hair and a blue gem in her bangs, and was a complete mockery of Cia and her powers. The darkness beneath Cia's skin started to pulse as anger rose up within her.

The face on the mirror changed again, this time to a young blonde woman adorned with a crown. Cia shoved herself back from the vanity, knocking over the bench and rattling the table's contents. The Princess of Hyrule smiled smugly, taunting Cia with her flawless features and regal poise. Cia clenched her fists and her jaw, the energy within her roiling dangerously. The mirror shifted to a scene on Hyrule Field from the previous battle, showing the Hero meeting the Princess for the first time in this era. He threw himself in the path of danger to protect her, and she smiled her sickening smile.

"No," Cia growled, a dark aura emanating from her body, "not this time. Never again. NO!" As she began to scream her condemnations, the room quaked violently and the mirror cracked in half. She grew closer and closer to a frenzied state, her words dissolved into nonsensical shrieks, and the purple haze of energy pouring from her body filled the tower to bursting. The fractures in the mirror multiplied and each broken segment depicted her Hero in the arms of the vile Princess. With that image playing hundredfold before her eyes and in her head, she could take no more and finally made a conscious push of power from herself, shattering not just the mirror but the entire top of the tower.

The dust settled and the dark energy in the air dissipated, and Cia floated above the ruins with her mask and hat back in place. Any doubts once plaguing her were gone. Light was her enemy, having fled like a craven at the realization that fate was cruel and the cycle must be stopped. She heard the deep voice within her mind assert itself, encouraging her to take what she wanted, to make it her own. Make _him_ her own.

Cia had the power. Now all she needed was the wisdom to plan it and the courage to execute it, and she knew just how to muster them. The Dark Sorceress smiled to herself, unaware that the Demon King within her smiled, too.


	2. Impa's Leadership

"Company, halt!"

The Hyrulean Army came to an abrupt stop, steadily at attention waiting for orders.

General Impa paced before them, her eagle eyes scanning her men for a moment before she continued. "You've marched well today, but nightfall approaches. We make camp here. I expect the tents to be erected and rations distributed within the hour. Fall out!"

A relieved sigh escaped the soldiers as they broke ranks, quickly moving to follow the general's commands. The more quickly they appeased their leader, the sooner they could rest. They had every right to be weary after the ordeal in the Eldin Caves, being chased by the ghastly Dark Forces and the evil creature calling itself "Wizzro". This night's reprieve was Impa's gift to her troops.

After assisting with setting up camp, Impa quietly retired to her personal tent, knowing no soldier would truly unwind in the company of his general. Her modest shelter was pitched on the edge of the camp, small and secluded from the rest. The unmistakable Eye of Truth symbol of the Sheikah tribe adorned the canvas, and the Spartan interior only contained a rack of well-polished weaponry, a large wooden chest, and a simple cot.

Impa retrieved a red cushion from the chest and placed it in the center of her space, kneeling upon it before inhaling and holding a deep breath. This was part of a standard Sheikah technique for erasing stress and fatigue, but Impa remained ill at ease as she expelled her breath explosively. She was a seasoned warrior and a respected military leader, but she identified herself foremost as guardian of Princess Zelda. Now that her liege was missing, Impa felt the guilty pangs of failure.

A cough sounded from the opening in the tent. Impa rolled swiftly to her weapon rack and grabbed a kunai, turning and throwing it with deadly accuracy in one fluid motion. The figure standing there ducked low and swung a leg high, catching the edge of the blade with a heel that came down to pin the weapon to the ground. "Do you throw knives at all your guests?" Sheik asked with a chuckle as she stood and picked up the kunai.

Impa slowly straightened and folded her arms, though she was only barely able to stand in the low ceilinged tent. "My men know that I accept no visitors after dusk."

"Then I beg your forgiveness," Sheik apologized with a little bow. "I had hoped to speak with you alone, Lady Impa."

" _General_ Impa," she corrected with a frosty stare. Cautious to a fault, Impa was sure she was intimately familiar with the few remaining Sheikah. Her tribe had always been small, and their numbers had dwindled even further in recent years. It did not sit well that this unknown young woman showed up in the previous battle knowing so much of the Hyrulean's situation while claiming to be of Impa's clan.

The cloth concealing most of Sheik's face did little to hide her slight smirk. " _General_ Impa, it would be a great honor to speak with you."

Impa hummed lowly in reserved consent, kneeling again on her cushion. Sheik followed her lead and sat across from her cross-legged, fiddling with the weapon that had been aimed at her. They sat silently for a few moments, Impa staring at Sheik and Sheik toying with the blade. "What did you want to speak with me about?" the general finally demanded.

"Thank you again for allowing me to accompany your army," Sheik began, still not looking up from the kunai. "We will surely succeed in our endeavors should we continue to work in tandem." She looked about the tent, and then added, "Most leaders in your position would set up a large pavilion in the center of camp, which would be both petty and imprudent. I appreciate your humility and wisdom."

Impa raised a skeptical eyebrow. "That's it? Platitudes? Sheikah are trained to be direct and concise. What is your real reason for being here?"

"I would like to spar with you," Sheik replied, offering Impa the knife and giving her a level gaze. "It's been some time since I have had the opportunity to train with a fellow Sheikah."

With a grunt, Impa took the kunai and stood to return it to the rack of gear. She hovered by the weapons for a moment in consideration before instructing, "Wait for me outside." By the time she turned around, Sheik had silently exited. Impa breathed deeply again, readying herself for combat. Sheikah never held back, even when sparring, and she was looking forward to testing this suspicious character.

They moved further away from camp and once satisfied with their surroundings bowed to each other. In an instant, they each struck a fighting stance, Impa's strong and weighted on her foreleg while Sheik's was lithe and low to the ground. The two eyed each other in the moonlight, motionless and silent. Then, like lightning, Sheik lashed out with a sweeping kick that was smoothly dodged by Impa with a calmly methodical back step. Impa countered with a series of spinning back fists and kicks, each deftly evaded by Sheik's acrobatic somersaults and handsprings.

Once they had begun, they danced back and forth relentlessly, neither landing a hit on the other. Impa internally admitted that she was impressed. Sheik was young and obviously still someone's protégé, but she must have been an apt pupil. In fact, she seemed to be actively learning each of Impa's techniques as they were presented in use. More than once, Impa would change to a new offensive tactic just for Sheik to turn and mirror her exact pattern.

The rhythm of their match began to increase in speed, their purposeful and measured strikes now becoming flurries of fists and feet. Where they had been merely dodging each other's attacks, they now had to actively block hand to hand and leg to leg. Impa launched a particularly rapid assault of open-handed chops and slaps, but it was apparent that Sheik was of superior speed. She deflected each blow and recovered with more of her own, no longer mimicking her opponent but instead flipping and kicking with abandon. It was then that Impa saw her opening, a weakness she had seen in a certain student of her own.

Sheik attempted another leg sweep that Impa leapt over, and then the ninja-garbed warrior performed a cartwheel followed by a swift spinning kick. Impa backed away, waiting for the blow to come, and then grabbed the ankle aimed for the side of her head before throwing her opponent to the ground. She quickly planted a firm knee in Sheik's chest and thrust a blade-shaped hand at her face, stopping just short. "Match."

Sheik breathed heavily, her eyes wild. A moment later, though, and her eyes softened with another barely concealed smirk. "Match, indeed. I still have much to learn."

Impa helped Sheik to her feet, and the two bowed again. "You are quite talented," she conceded as she turned to go back to her tent, "but you lack control when you are pressed. Who is your mentor?" No answer was given, and Impa looked behind her to find the young woman to be gone, disappearing just as silently as she had arrived. Impa had many doubts about this Sheik, but she was certain of at least one thing: she definitely fought like a Sheikah warrior.


	3. Wizzro's Failure

Wizzro floated slowly toward the temple at the back of the Valley of Seers where his Mistress awaited. A few skeleton-like beings called Stalchildren shuffled along with him, the only survivors of the debacle in the Faron Woods. He was sure Cia had heard the result of his latest battle with the Hyrulean Forces, and he was equally sure that she would be most displeased.

"I don't know what else she expects from me," Wizzro said to the closest skeletal soldier. "We managed to take the castle, we captured a good number of enemy soldiers in the caves, and we located the White Sorceress! I'd say I've had a good run. Wouldn't you agree?" He peered sidelong at the Stalchild with his one red eye, hoping to see a little commiseration but instead finding a blank stare and a slack jaw.

"But of course you agree," the wraith continued, his eye rolling back grotesquely to reveal his mouth. "You know, I was once a mere ring. A cursed ring, mind you, but a just a pretty piece of jewelry nonetheless. I've had dozens of wearers, all of them vain and greedy. In fact, I'm not sure which came first, their evil or mine. But in any event, I enjoyed an existence of being a shiny bauble that fed on the wonderful nastiness of men and women who craved power, beauty, and all other manner of fleeting things. And then came along the Mistress, who made me the being I am today.

"Something about Cia actually reminds me of one of my old wearers. I vaguely remember being stuffed onto the fat finger of a rich widow who was convinced she looked like a beautiful maiden, while any mirror or smart-mouthed child could tell her she more resembled a wart-covered toad. She enjoyed wearing unholy amounts of jewelry; dozens of rings, necklaces, bangles, earrings, you name it. I was just another ring to her at first, but I gradually worked my magic on her. By the time I was done, she had sold her own children just for more gold and jewels. I don't think she could even recall their names as she commanded her servants to adorn her with so many necklaces that the weight eventually crushed her fat neck!" Wizzro belted the last sentence like a punchline and cackled gleefully while the Stalchild came to a halt on the stairs of the temple.

Wizzro's laughter trickled off as he spotted Cia waiting at the top of the stairs, tapping one foot impatiently and weighing her spiked scepter in her hands. She was wearing her full cowl and mask, but there was no doubt as to her expression beneath. "Mistress, I-"

"Silence," Cia growled. "You've failed me. _Again_. Three times you have come against the Hero, and each time he has gained an ally and you've returned empty handed."

"Well, I wouldn't say-"

"Shut your mouth," she command once more. "You've lost not one, but two of our giant beasts. Under your command, we've lost several thousand troops, and yet the Hyrulean Forces march on nearly unscathed! I brought you to life to serve a purpose, but all you've done is lose battles and try my patience."

"Please, Mistress," Wizzro pleaded. "Give me another chance! I know things haven't gone quite how we would've liked, but we have made progress! For one, we've located Lana-"

"DON'T say that witch's name!" Cia shrieked as she shot a black orb of energy from her scepter, disintegrating a Stalchild behind Wizzro.

Wizzro began to grovel on the steps before Cia, partly in hopes of not getting blasted if he stayed low. "Of course, Mistress, I apologize for mentioning that vile girl, and I will never do so again… except to say…"

"What?" she asked in a dangerous tone.

"Well, she's leading the forces here as we speak," he replied quickly, covering his head in preparation for punishment. Instead, he heard a faint chuckle.

"Coming here, are they?" Cia mused. "Well, that's the first good news you've brought me, ring. Make preparations for battle, and take special care with our last giant beast. I'm putting you in charge of it, so try not to let it eat you before the fighting begins. That is all," she finished with a dismissive wave, turning her back on Wizzro and moving within the temple.

"Yes, Mistress, thank you! You won't be disappointed!" Wizzro continued his empty platitudes as he backed down the stairs. He turned to the Stalchildren behind him, searching for the one that had been his sounding board. He then realized he couldn't tell them apart in the slightest. "Which one of you was I talking to?" They looked at each other quizzically and then all turned their attention to an inky black pile of ash. "Oh. Unfortunate. I think I almost liked that one." Wizzro sighed and then put a gnarled hand on the shoulder of one of the remaining soldiers as they marched back down into the Valley of Seers. "Did you know I used to be a ring? Well, I was quite fetching, and what I wouldn't give to wind up on the finger of my Mistress…"


End file.
